


In the Wee Small Hours

by dotfic



Category: DCU Animated, Justice League Unlimited
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-04
Updated: 2006-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotfic/pseuds/dotfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's not used to the rules yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Wee Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for thecryingwillow's birthday (I did send this to her on her birthday, and then somehow never got around to posting it anywhere). Thank you to mtgat for the beta.

The curtains stirred in the cold wind that gusted through the half-open window. Rain streaked down the glass, blurring the lights of Gotham. Thunder rumbled softly. The full force of the storm was still far off, but getting closer.

A gloved hand raised the window, and then Huntress ducked under the pane, lowering one leg into the room. Water pooled on the oriental-style rug and seeped onto the floorboards. The strands of her dark hair clung together with the rain, and there was a rip in her costume, near her shoulder. She slid into the dark living room, her crossbow strapped to her back.

"Rough night?"

The voice made her freeze in mid-step. She turned slowly, hands loose at her sides, body tense. In the room she'd assumed was empty, a shadow stirred. A light flicked on, catching her in its glare.

Huntress tilted her head to one side and put her hand on her hip. "You're up past your bedtime."

Vic looked rumpled—more rumpled than usual, anyway, his hair messy and his eyes still hazy with sleep. He disentangled himself from the blanket.

"How does the other guy look?"

"He's less pretty now than before I worked him over," she said. She slowly moved in front of the chair, looking down at him for a moment, then settled onto his lap. Water from her costume dampened his pajamas but he didn't appear to notice or care. His fingers found the loose flap of torn fabric at her shoulder. He fumbled with it, searching for a wound.

She pulled off her gloves and touched his face—his true face. "I'm fine, baby-doll."

The crease between his eyes deepened. "You're fine?" A flash of lightning send their silhouettes starkly against the far wall.

"Yes. Don't start, Vic."

"Start what?"

She sighed. "You know." She waved her hand vaguely. The thunder sounded closer now.

"I could recite you statistics," he said, his hands now warm on her thighs. "Do you have any idea what percentage of the GCPD is secretly on the payroll of the mob? Or the bounty currently offered on the underground for a hit on a cape? Not to mention the toxic gas that—"

Huntress put her finger against his lips. They sat in silence a moment, listening to the rain patter more insistently against the windows.

Then she said, "You waited up for me. That's against the rules. We agreed."

"I know what we agreed to," he said, an edge in his voice.

Another silence.

"I missed check-in," she said, her voice flat.

His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I was worried."

She leaned in and gave him a damp kiss. His hands slid up from her thighs to circle her waist.

There were no words for a minute or two.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. "It's just…I'm not used to it. The rules. Having someone I have to check in _with_."

"Me too," he said, brushing wet strands of hair back from her cheek.

"Hey, Vic?"

"Hm?" He said, nuzzling her neck.

"Did you remember to buy more toilet paper?"

"Uh-huh. But you know the national brands put—"

"Baby? I don't want to know. I really don't." She reached down and took his hands, removing them from her hips. Like his true face, Vic only wore the wedding band in their apartment. She liked the feeling of the cool circle of metal against her finger, against his.

She didn't wear hers on patrol, ever, not even concealed beneath gloves. She wore it in the daytime, at school. She hadn't changed her name.

Gracefully, she detached herself from his lap. She tugged off her mask and rubbed vigorously at her hair with her fingers, scattering away the remaining drops of rain.

"What?" she demanded, noticing his stare. When he didn't answer, she turned and headed towards the bedroom. "I'd better go change out of this wet uniform." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Wanna help?"

Vic launched himself from the chair and followed her down the half-lit hall.

"Vic?" Helena stopped so suddenly he nearly stumbled.

"Yeah?"

"I wait up too."

He smiled. "Rules never worked for us anyway."

 

END


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